An Audience Of One

I love when one of my poems from my deleted blog finds me!

For, Not To

You and I know.  There is no filth involved.  Not between us.  No matter what others would think,  every act,  no matter how it seems,  is done for,  not to. 

Oh I see. Your twitter links are all quite old. I suppose that the belong to the tumblr that was taken from you.

They did indeed. I lost eight years of poetry. And thousands of readers and handful of friends. The friends I have mostly refound. The rest? Ah well.

This time around I did not bother with Twitter. It has become an odd place anyway.

Be well.

And Just When You Think

And just when you think there are no more adventures... I show you otherwise.

That is our life. And always will be.

Thoughts Noir

Dreams own me as they once owned you,

Love in flux, odd and as uncertain

As the next flick of the crop

Or tender touch, one after the other

To your perfect, swollen, pink clit.

Dreams. Not imagination, but something deeper,

A recognition of what lives inside us both,

You a siren from the forties, but less dressed,

Waiting forever for the pleasure and pain

I cannot help but offer, both of us somehow,

Enslaved.

I am slowly finding the poems I lost in the Tumblr purge of my former site.

Serve Me.

Serve me.  Indulge my every whim and desire.  Give yourself to my pleasure,  and I will give myself to yours. 

I love when I find one of my poems from my deleted blog, or in this case, they find me. @owithadash2point0 - thank you!

An Understanding.

I believe you finally understand. Anywhere means.... anywhere. Anything means anything. And mine means only. completely.

Truth and Belief

You are beautiful. The thing is that you do not have to believe it for it to be true.

This is How I Want You.

This is how I want you,  spent from hours of touch and penetration,  no part of you  innocent or unfilled,  your body trembling,  your throat raw from moans and cries of orgasm,  the sheets pulled loose by your clinched hands,  your nipples tender,  your clit throbbing,  beautifully abused,  you clamber up,  and whisper,  “Please” as you reach for my cock and draw it to your swollen lips. 

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Tumblr killed my original poetry site, The Other Poems, after 8 years and 12,000+ followers. If you would be kind enough to share this poem, I may find some of my friends and followers.

Sometimes Submissive

Sometimes submissive has nothing to do with ropes and chains. There are no harsh commands or red marks left by hands and crops or chains. It is simply staying still as I take you in. Look at you, a woman no one would suspect contains such passion. Savoring each curve and your perfect skin. Knowing all that others cannot see, all that would amaze and scare and thrill them about you

is mine

Without a Word

Without a word, you fall into a position I never asked for, never had to, a position you needed to feel and knew, with certainty I would honor.